


Before Us, Them, and Everything In Between

by SweatersAndScarves (SlaveToMyKeyboard)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Beforus, Culling, Domestic Fluff, Extreme Coddling, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, Kankri's rants, Multi, Rating will change, Slurs, The Beforus Version, Time Skips, Young Hate, Young Love, blatant disregard for quadrants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-29 05:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6362014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlaveToMyKeyboard/pseuds/SweatersAndScarves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein the life of a four-sweep-old sea dweller gets infinitely more interesting, and a young mutant finds someone who will finally let him say more than ten words without interrupting.</p><p>Too bad that 'someone' is the aforementioned sea dweller.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hive by the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Krabkri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krabkri/gifts).



> An AU that I'm trying out to better my understanding of the dancestors, during which Kankri is culled (in the beforus sense) and sent to live with a particularly grouchy purple-blood by the ocean, where he ends up meeting and befrending Cronus and the rest of the alpha Trolls. This was meant to be a fluffy drabble for Krabkri, but then I wanted to continue it, so here is the original story as chapter one, and then other timeskips will serve as the remaining chapters up until a point where I find a suitable ending!
> 
> For the purpose of this AU, Beforan culling basically means treating said Troll like a child, codling and 'protecting' them in whatever way you see fit, as well as trying to teach them how to succeed in life but without actually giving them a chance or the proper skills to do so, thus leaving them entirely dependent on their guardian. If a trusted red or pale quadrantmate is involved, the two adult Trolls will effectively function as parents.
> 
> Also, just imagine their kid voices as whatever your headcanon voice for them is but on helium *thumbs up*

You dig your toes into the sand as you stretch in preparation for your evening swim. You’ve taken your glasses off, placing them in the most easily-accessible part of your Sylladex, but Seahorsedad is there to guide you up the blurry route to your favourite diving rock. You climb up and take a deep breath of the sea air, then perch yourself on the end before leaping off into the ocean. You’re not exactly the best swimmer in the world, which is pretty embarrassing considering you’re a sea-dweller, but your natural instincts at least stop you from floundering like a land wiggler.

You blink a few times until your eyes adjust, letting you see even better than you do on land with your glasses. The waters are clear and quiet… A little too quiet. You turn around to look behind just in time to see a black shadow, then something grabs your ankle and pulls you down. You growl and lash out with kicks, but you none of your blows connect before you’re released.

“Clam down Crofish,” Meenah says with a cackle, “I ain’t gonna bite.”

You frown at her and puff your fins out. “Yeah vwell maybe _I_ vwill.”

She just laughs harder, “Aw man I’m _so_ _scared_.”

She gives you a wide grin and reaches out to your face, but you grab her wrists before she can pinch your cheeks and shove her away. It’s not that you don’t like your neighbour, but she’s real mean for a fuchsia blood. Maybe that’s where she got her name from.

“Vwhaddya vwant Meens?”

Her teeth remain on show, but now her smile is more excited than mischievous, “Okay so you know that big ol’ purple-blood who lives on the shore?”

 “I guess,” You reply, “vwhat about ‘im?”

In truth, you happen to know him very well, or at least the extent of his anti-sea-dweller vocabulary from all the times you’ve wandered into ‘his’ section of the beach. If he wanted to keep you out that badly he should put up fences or something, jeez. Adults can be so stupid. But of course you don’t tell Meenah any of this, because then she’d have even more reason to pick on you.

“Well I heard he’s been put in charge a some little mutant.” And there’s that creepy grin again.

A mutant? Living right near the shore? Whoever sent them here must have a death wish for the kid, especially if they’re at the red end of the spectrum. Oh well, not like it’s your problem.

You shrug, “So?”

“ _Crooofiiiish_ ,” She huffs dramatically, throwing her hands down at her sides and tipping her head back as a stream of bubbles floats from her mouth with a ‘glub’, “you’re so borin’.”

“Vwhatewver,” You scoff, folding your arms, “howv do you ewven knowv this anyvways?”

“Aranea told Meulin who told Horuss who told Rufioh who told Latula who told me,” She replies, like you should have known that already, “an Aranea says she saw the drones hershellf like two nights ago so it _must_ be true.”

“Then vwhy ain’t vwe seen ‘em yet?”

“Oh I dunno,” She begins sarcastically, looking around as if searching for an answer, “maybe ‘cause mister purple doesn’t want shark-faced brats like you hurtin’ ‘em?”

“I vwould newver do somethin’ like that!” At least not intentionally anyway, you add in your pan.

She rolls her eyes, “Well I got a eeling he doesn’t know that, so we should stay away from the shore for a whale.”

Okay, you’re getting seriously sick of her trying to act like she knows best just because she’s what, half a perigee older than you? It’s not your fault you hatched right at the end of the season, you just needed more time to develop into the fine example of a grub that you turned out to be.

“You can’t tell me vwhat to do,” You say to her, “you ain’t my Lusus.”

She lets out a little growl, “Fine, go over there an’ get krilled like the curious meowbeast, see if I care.” Then turns fin and swims back down towards her hive.

“Maybe I vwill!” You shout after her, “C-cept the dyin’ part!” You add quickly, feeling your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

You could have quite easily just gone home after that, said that Seahorsedad didn’t want to staying out and you had to listen to him because he actually _is_ your Lusus. But as it is, your Lusus is quite happy to just hover nearby and let you do whatever you want, including going into Adult Troll’s territories. Which is how you found yourself crouched behind a rock nearby Big Purple’s hive, peeking over the top with your fins flattened right back, as if that’ll make you any less noticeable when you’ve got big zig-zag horns like two orange beacons on your head.

A few minutes pass with no movement in the hive and you start to get bored enough not to care anymore. He’s probably keeping the mutant inside like Meenah said, you should just leave and come back later. Wait, did that day shutter move? You watch for a bit longer and it does it again, this time showing a flash of teal behind. Then the back door opens and you duck down out of sight.

“You can’t keep him locked up all night and day Syrill,” A woman’s voice says, “he’ll never become a functioning member of society if he doesn’t even step foot outside of your hive.”

She’s answered by a familiar, deep grumbling that sends a shiver down your spine. You risk a look, poking your head around the side of the rock. You recognise the teal now, you think she’s Syrill’s Matesprit – you’re guessing Purple’s name is Syrill, which is far less impressive than you imagined – or she might be his Moirail from the way she talks to him sometimes. Her dress billows out behind her as she walks onto to the sand, a tiny bundle of fabric cradled in her arm. She mutters something to it, then sets it down at her feet.

At first, it doesn’t look like there’s anything in there at all and she’s just gone crazy, but then something moves and a tiny pair of horns peek out. And you mean _tiny_ , they’re not even sharp, just little, round… Nubs, sitting in a mop of black hair that nearly covers them. So that’s what Meenah meant when she said he was a mutant. Poor kid, getting landed with ol’ Purple, but it could be worse you suppose.

“This is the ocean.” The teal says to the little Troll.

Syrill lets out a sigh and walks over to join them, “There’s no point in telling him, he has no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Actually,” Begins a small voice that you assume is the mutant’s, “I have already heard of the sea and I am rather fond of–”

“No,” Syrill cuts him off, “the ocean is dangerous, you’re not fond of it, understand?”

The mutant shrinks back into his blanket, “Y-yes sir.”

Wow, he’s really well-spoken, maybe he was transferred from another Adult’s hive? You mean, he can’t have learned to talk like that on his own.

“Bring him inside Lareza,” Syrill orders, “I don’t want him getting foolish ideas into his pan.”

The teal frowns, then scoops up the little Troll and follows her quadrantmate back into his hive.

***

You go to see the mutant every so often, and by ‘see’ you mean watch him sitting in the window of Syrill’s hive looking absolutely miserable, whilst you hide behind a rock. You sort of feel bad for the little guy, but as a Troll who’s spent most of their life in the ocean, you can agree with Syrill – which is a scary thought in itself – when he says that it’s dangerous. Eventually you decide to tell Meenah what you saw that first night, but apparently three weeks is long enough to lose interest in something, so all you get is an “oh right” and then she brushes you off to go hang out with Aranea and Porrim, who are apparently like her best friends now.

You take back what you said about not disliking your neighbour, especially after she turns five and then suddenly she’s the best thing since sliced grubloaf. Oh whoop-de-do, all hail princess snooty-face. Rufioh says the same thing to Meenah’s face when she tells him to stop doing ‘weeb things’, and he may be a forest-dwelling warmblood freak with wings, whose friends consist of a boy who thinks he’s a hoofbeast and a girl that doesn’t speak your language, but talking back to Meenah like that earns him a ‘pretty cool’ in your books. Not that he cares, because he’d rather fight the Kemonomimi tribes – whatever they are – and go off on fiduspawn adventures than play wizard with you.

This consistent lack of companionship, is what leads you to spend the majority of your fifth wiggling day waiting for Lareza’s scuttlebug to arrive. Syrill’s Matesprit – definitely not Moirail, not after you saw them being all gross and making out on the beach – is the only one who lets the mutant go outside. You can tell that she wants to show him around some more, instead of locking him up with a bunch of books, but when Syrill is around, the best she can do is put him on the sand. Not tonight though; you heard them talking the other night and apparently Syrill will be gone for a few hours, so Lareza is going to grubsit, which means she’ll bring the mutant to the ocean, which means you might get to meet him. It’s not like you’re getting desperate for friends or anything – you mean yeah it’d be nice to have some more, but whatever – but the mysterious little Troll on the shore is just so fascinating to you, especially because other than his small horns, you can’t really tell how he’s a mutant.

A teal scuttlebuggy parks up outside, and Lareza enters the hive just as her Matesprit leaves it. They exchange a kiss – eww – and then Syrill gets in his scuttlebug and drives off. _Yes, finally_. You wait a few minutes, watching Lareza fuss around beyond the windows, and then your patience is rewarded when she opens the back door and leads the little mutant out onto the sand. He’s grown since the first time you saw him, and has apparently been deemed able to walk on his own two feet, at least by Lareza.

“Don’t go too far, alright dear?” She says, patting him on the head, “And call for me if you get into trouble.”

“Yes, absolutely.” He replies.

Lareza smiles and sits down on the sand, not even paying attention when the kid wanders right up to the ocean and climbs on some rocks. Talk about adventurous. You slip back into the water and follow him, keeping out of sight in the shadows. He’s not got the best balance in the world, and a few times you almost jump out to grab him because he looks like he’s going to fall. He always pulls it back though, not making a sound or showing a single hint of fear on his face, just waving his arms around until he can straighten up and then he carries on walking. He’s on the very outskirts of Syrill’s territory when he decides to stop, and you end up right under the rock he’s sitting on, his little feet kicking only a metre or so above your head. You grin and swim a little closer to him. Part of you wants to jump out and frighten him – call it five sweeps of living with scream-queen Meenah and her silent fins – but instead you just float there, looking up at his little hands as he curls them over the edge of the rock.

You’re still not seeing the ‘mutant’ part of him, and to be honest he doesn’t look like he needed to be culled either. You imagined kids who got taken in as frail little wigglers, too afraid of their own shadow to do anything other than hide behind a Coldblood’s skirt, but he isn’t like that. You’re too busy watching him, that you don’t notice the huge wave coming up behind you until it’s too late. You’re pulled under and pushed against the rocks, the current hurling sand and stones against your skin. Then as the waters recede, you hear a loud splash and a squeak. You try to surface but you’re dragged back with what’s left of the wave, knocking you into something warm and squishy that yelps when you touch it. You flip yourself over and blink to clear your eyes, grabbing your now broken glasses as they drift past your face. Then you see a small form floating just near the rocks, feet kicking out as he tries to haul himself out of the surf. You swim forwards and throw an arm around his waist, pushing him up onto the rocks and then climbing out after him.

He coughs and splutters, but you can’t see any injuries when you put your glasses back on, so you’re guessing he’s just a bit wet and cold.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask, holding out a hand to him.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He replies sharply, snubbing your offer of help as he gets to his feet, and then taking a few steps back away from you as if you’ve got the plague.

 _Rude_.

He’s a lot shorter than he looked from a distance, only just reaching your shoulder and lacking the horn height to make up for it. Then he pushes the sopping curls of hair back off of his face, and you sort of feel your pan melt a little bit from how _cute_ he is; big eyes, button nose, round face, rosy pink cheeks, and just the slightest overbite that lets his blunt little teeth poke over his lips. He looks like one of those kids who model in the fashion magazines Meenah and Porrim read. Oh, he’s talking again, or did he just never stop?

“I would have also been fine without your assistance, I am almost five sweeps old and perfectly capable of removing myself from the water under my own power, thank you very much.”

You can’t help raising your eyebrows at him, “Uhm, _vwhat_?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, “I understand that your ears may be clogged with water as that is where you spend most of your time, so I will repeat myself; I _said_ that I would have been fine if you had not interfered as I am old enough to get myself out of situations such as this.” He barely looks at you whilst he speaks, too preoccupied with ringing water out of his clothes and hair.

Wow, he sounds like he’s eaten a thesaurus _and_ a dictionary. No wonder you got the impression he’d had a home already, his last care takers probably got sick of his sass.

“I sawved your life,” You tell him, like that’s something someone who nearly drowned needs to be told by their saviour, “you could say thank you y’knowv.”

His eyes narrow as he finally makes eye contact with you, then after a while of holding your stare and obviously trying not to shiver, he looks down and says “Thank you.” Before turning and heading off back towards the hive.

“Hey vwait up!” You catch up to him and grab his arm, which sends him jumping sideways as if you just poked him with Meenah’s trident.

“Don’t touch me without asking,” He says quickly, smoothing a hand over his sleeve as he composes himself, “please.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, giving him your best pout because that was totally not your fault.

He ignores your expression to frown at his shoes, the red in his cheeks flushing deeper. And not just any red either, _bright_ red, like brighter than any rust-blood you’ve ever seen before. So _that’s_ where the mutant genes decided to show up. Again, could have been worse – it’s not as if he’s going to go around parading his blood colour everywhere – he could have wings like Rufioh, which you’re betting are a pain in the rear to hide, if he can hide them at all that is.

“Kankri.” He says eventually.

You tilt your head.

“My name,” He lifts his gaze, “it’s Kankri, that’s what you were going to ask isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, um, I’m Cronus.” You reply a little awkwardly, letting a nervous smile quirk your lips.

Kankri nods, and you swear he’s smiling too as he turns his back on you and makes his way over to Lareza.

You hear her surprise at his wet clothes as you wade back out to sea, and in his reply you make out the sentence “I simply went for a swim, although I doubt I will be doing it again, the water is far too cold” before you dive under, chuckling to yourself as you swim back to your own island.


	2. "Mutant" and other potentially offensive terms

“Kankri,” You hiss, tapping on the rock you’re peering over, “ _Psst_ , Kankri, it’s me.”

He lifts his head, looking in the completely wrong direction for a while, until he finally sees you trying to subtly wave at him over the rock. You’ve been visiting him – actually visiting him, like with actual talking – for two perigees now, but his caretakers have no idea you’re even coming this close, so you’re still trying to lay low whenever you go into Syrill’s territory. It’d be easier if he had a Trollian account, or at least some form of contact other than face-to-face, but of course he can’t have that because he’s a poor little mutant and _blah blah blah_. Honestly, you used to buy into all the stuff they told you about culling, but the more time you spend with Kankri, the less you’re starting to believe that _all_ mutants need taking care of. Sure he’s pretty small for his age and probably couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag, but he’s not exactly useless. If anything, you’d bet on him talking his way out of an argument before the fighting even started, and he’s smart enough to avoid danger.

“Greetings Cronus.” He says, checking that neither of his guardians are around before he ducks down behind the rock.

He doesn’t sit on the sand though, preferring to crouch with his knees up against his chest. It makes him look even smaller than he already is, and your chest swells with that warm, fluttery feeling you always get around him. You’ve been giving it a lot of thought lately, comparing it to how you feel around the rest of your friends. You know some cute girls and guys, even if some of them are massive jerks and would probably be better Kismesises than Matesprits – not that they’d date you, but whatever – Kankri though, he’s different. You look at him and you just want to take him home, keep him safe from the rest of the world, have him all to yourself. If you told Meulin, your resident 'relationships expert', she’d say you were pale for him and you would agree. But the way your stomach ties itself in knots when you see him, and how you sometimes find yourself dreaming about him in a very non-pale way, you’re starting to realise that it might actually be more of a flush-crush instead.

Kankri can’t know though. That time when you grabbed his arm and he freaked out has been the only time you’ve ever touched him, no hand-holding or hugs, and he always makes sure to put some distance between you. At first, you were pretty offended, you mean who wouldn’t be? But after he explained that he simply doesn’t like physical contact, you got used to giving him his little bubble of personal space. You don’t like it, but you oblige because you’d do pretty much anything for him. You also have the secret hope that he’ll grow out of it eventually, even if it’s just with you.

“I apologise for being late, Lareza was debating what clothes I should wear, seeing as it is technically a dim season however the weather has been rather on the chilly side as of late.” He sighs and looks down at the black coat currently swamping his small form, “I told her I would be fine with my usual attire, but she insisted on this rather unnecessary addition, and not that I don’t appreciate her concern, but I do wish she would take my opinion into account every so often, especially on matters that concern my appearance.”

You quickly realised that not only is Kankri well-spoken, he could talk the hind nubs off a long-eared hoofbeast, _and_ have words to spare. He’s also rather forward with his ideas on things, not hesitating to discuss how he feels his caretakers are treating him, in spite of having only known you for a season and you being a violet-blood. But that’s part of what you like about him, he speaks his mind and isn’t afraid of who hears. It does make you worry though, because not all adults are as lenient as Lareza seems to be – like what if the kid starts ranting to Syrill about him being treated like a wiggler? He’d be locked up for sure. Either that or sent to another hive, which you don’t think your poor pusher could take.

“I think you look great,” You tell him, “you alvways do.”

He scoffs and looks out at the sea, “Honestly Cronus you must stop saying things like that, I do not worry how I look, I simply wish that I could have more influence over it.”

He is such a little _liar_. You can see it in the way his mouth twitches as he bites back a smile, he totally loves getting compliments just like everyone else. Oh you could just shake some sense into him if he wasn’t so darned cute and would probably deck you for it.

“So, you ready to meet the gang?” You ask him, glancing back at his hive to check for movement.

And by the gang, you mean the group of Trolls who you talk to often enough to consider being your friends.

“Yes,” He nods, “I look forwards to discussing things with members of so many different castes.”

You grin, “Svweet, c’mon it’s this vway.”

“Kankri Vantas, where are you going?”

You jump so hard that it leaves your back cramping afterwards, simultaneously letting out a screech that is possibly only audible by bark-beasts, and so loud that any in the vicinity would probably be deaf after hearing it. If Kankri had a similar reaction, yours was dramatic enough to obscure it completely, and by the time your pusher has stopped trying to throw itself onto the sand, he’s looking between you and Lareza – of course it would be her – as if he can’t decide who to cast his disapproving stare on first. Thankfully, he decides on his guardian, folding his arms with a pout as she smiles down at him.

“I’m sorry I frightened you,” She says with a chuckle, her eyes now on you, “I didn’t quite expect a reaction like that from a sea-dweller.”

You frown in an effort to mask your blush as anger, but as hard as you try, you just can’t get your fins to flare properly under the gaze of an adult. Great, now you look like a _complete_ guppy, there’s no way Kankri’s going to wax red for you after that abysmal display of your protection skills.

Then as if someone took a big handful of salt and stuffed it into the gaping wound in your pride, Lareza fucking ‘ _aww’s_ at you. She grins like a meowbeast and clutches her hands to her chest, and sighs out the most patronising sound you’ve ever heard. How _dare_ anyone treat you this way. You mean yes, you’re not going to deny that you are one of the most adorable – if not _the_ most adorable – sea-dweller on this part of the coast, but at the end of the day, you _are_ still a sea Troll. Then again, if you get this chick to like you, you’ll have a better chance of spending more time with Kankri…

“Oh no please, I should be the one apologisin’.” You say, putting on the most innocent face in your repertoire.

“Well aren’t you a polite little sweetheart?” She says, falling right into your trap, “So, how do you know Kankri?”

You glance at said little Troll, and for a second he just stares back. Then he blinks and turns to his guardian.

“Oh, you see Cronus and I met a couple of perigees ago, I assure you that we have simply been talking within the confines of this shoreline since then, however he offered for me to meet some of his friends so I was hoping that perhaps, that might be… Acceptable.” His voice trails off as Lareza watches him in silence.

At first, her face is blank, and all you can think is that she’s going to drag Kankri inside and forbid him from seeing you. But then she smiles, resting her chin on her hand.

“Was he the one you fell in the ocean for?”

If Kankri was a meowbeast, his hair would be standing on end in a giant puffball. He looks at her with a mixture of shock and mortification, and you have to try really hard to stay quiet when he begins turning scarlet all the way out to his ears. So, he told her the truth about the little wave incident eh?

“I-I did not specifically fall into the ocean just to become acquainted with a sea-dweller, I merely happened to go into the water whilst Cronus was in the vicinity and we had a chance meeting.”

You’re always surprised at how outspoken he is around Lareza, and there’s always that second of worry where there’s an opportunity for her to snap, but like usual, she just rolls her eyes, warm expression never faltering.

“Well regardless, I am happy to see that you’re making friends, Syrill might not believe in the importance of socialising young Trolls, but I think it will do you the world of good to meet other people your age,” Then her gaze is back on you, “Cronus was it? Be sure to look after him for us, and in turn I’ll keep this little secret from Syrill, alright?”

“Y-yes Ma’am.” You reply quickly. Should you salute? No, that’s dumb, she’s only an adult, not like she’s important or anything.

“Well then, I expect you back before dinner Kankri, but most of all, I expect you to have fun.” She gives you a wink, then stands up and walks back to the hive, leaving both of you in a bewildered silence.

“So,” You say after a while, “vwe should get goin’, yeah?”

“Oh, yes, right, we should.” Kankri stands up and dusts the sand from his clothes.

You’re also covered, but you just drop your shorts – thank the Gods for waterproof undies – and then pull your shirt up over your head.

“W-what are you doing?”

When you get the cloth unhooked from your horns, Kankri has turned away with one hand over his eyes, the other held out flat in an extra attempt to block you from his vision.

“Uhm, gettin’ changed?” You answer, catching the clothes that are ejected from your Sylladex.

“O-oh, then um, please tell me when I can turn around.”

“It ain’t like I’m strippin’ naked,” You lean back on a rock as you slip into the first leg of your jeans, “an’ I don’t mind if you vwannna look at my gills or vwhatewver, plenty a people hawve seen me shirtless.”

“No, no, no, I’m perfectly fine thank you.” He replies quickly, and you can see his ears going red again even though he’s hiding his face.

Now if that isn’t just the most adorable thing, you didn’t peg him as shy considering how few reservations he seems to have about speaking out. Although he probably hasn’t had much interaction with other Trolls, so you can sort of understand.

You button up your shirt and fasten your belt, then carefully slide your sweater-vest over your horns. You don’t care about your shirts, but this thing is fifty cegars worth of allpama wool dyed with only the finest royal violet. It’s also an essential part of your wizard getup, and matches the socks that only just show between your shoes and rolled-up jeans. Porrim often dubs you a ‘fashion disaster’, but she has no idea about sea-dweller fashion. Hah, she’s going to have a field day with Kankri – and he thought Lareza was a fussyfangs.

“Okay I’m done, let’s go.”

You catch Kankri looking you up and down when he uncovers his face, but as soon as his gaze reaches your eyes, he abruptly looks away. What a little _cutie_. You’d love to tell Syrill where to go and take over his culling duties, not because you think Kankri needs it, just because it would be awesome to have him with you all night every night. But as it is, you won’t qualify for that sort of responsibility for another eight sweeps at least. Ugh, fucking adults and their stupid rules, Kankri would be so much happier with you. At least he wouldn’t get babied all the time.

You crawl around the rock with Kankri in tow, then lead him down the beach, looking back every few seconds to check that he’s not going to hurt himself. He wouldn’t let you help him even if he was, but you’re not about to let him break his neck over a little pride. Thankfully, you reach the cove where your friends are waiting without any incidents. It’s not that far from Kankri’s hive, but he still looks around wide-eyed as you walk under arches of stone or climb past rock pools. Then he sees the other Trolls, and it’s fear rather than wonder stretching his oculars.

“It’s okay, they ain’t gonna hurt ya,” You tell him, “some of ‘em take a while to get used to, but they’re not bad.” He still doesn’t look convinced, so you stop walking, “I vwon’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.”

He blinks at you, then gives a solid nod. Okay, that means he trusts you right? Gods you hope it means he trusts you. Now, which one of your friends to start with?

“Hey shark-bait.”

Meenah it is then. _Great_. You've told Kankri about her – well, more like warned him – but meeting her in person is going to be a whole new ordeal. She saunters over with Porrim and Aranea in tow. They’re like a girl gang or something.

“Hey,” You say, putting yourself ever so slightly between them and Kankri, “howv’s it hangin’ ladies?”

They look at each other and giggle, high pitched and definitely not a friendly gesture. Even after they stop, they keep smiles plastered on their faces, like they’re looking for another way to amuse themselves at your expense. Girls are fucking animals, you swear.

“Say, who’s your frond there?” Meenah asks, completely ignoring your question as she focusses on Kankri, “He’s pretty cute.”

“I think you should know that I find your attitude to be rather rude,” Kankri begins before you can step in, “not only did you ignore Cronus after he politely asked you a question and then laugh at him, you also described me in a demeaning manner and did not even address me when asking for my name, oh and it’s Kankri Vantas by the way, pleasure to meet you.” He finishes with an unnervingly serene expression, not looking worked up at all in spite of the rather impressive tongue lashing he just gave to one of the bitchiest people you know.

Meenah is speechless for a few seconds, which you had previously thought impossible, and is an accomplishment that pushes Kankri even further up your list of favourite people.

“Holy shell, check out this little windbag!” She cackles as Kankri puffs out his cheeks, “You must be the mutant right? The one who lives with that big purple?”

“His name is Syrill Tarkon, and yes I am genetically a ‘mutant’, however I find that label to be rather offensive, I much prefer the term spectrum outlier if you absolutely feel the necessity to call me by anything other than my name, which in itself could also cause great problems if you choose to continue this trend with others that you meet, especially if you use another potentially unsettling and socially incorrect term for their caste.”

You have no idea how he’s staying calm about this, if you couldn't see the way he has his arms tightly folded you wouldn't know it was getting to him at all.

Thankfully, Aranea steps up to the plate next. She may hang around with Meenah, but she’s probably one of the more pleasant Trolls in your group. Boy can she talk though, Kankri might have met his match.

“Hello Kankri, my name is Aranea Serket and these are my friends Meenah and Porrim, it is wonderful to meet you, as a person and as a historically intriguing member of our society, do you perhaps know who your Ancestor is or have any information on him? He was likely born in the same generation as our current Empress, and it would be absolutely fascinating to-”

“Okay blabberfangs, that’s enough outta you.” Meenah interrupts, pushing past Aranea to extend a hand out to Kankri, “Name’s Meenah Peixes, as in the Heiress a the whole Empire, I’m shore you’d rather hang around with us than a loser like wizard-bouy.”

Kankri looks at her hand as if it’s an alien, then back up at her with a blank expression, “Thank you for your offer, but it was Cronus who invited me here and it would be rude to simply abandon him for the first people I meet.”

Yeah, score one for Ampora! The look on Meenah’s face is priceless. Kankri’s lucky Porrim chooses to introduce herself then, or he could have ended up with an imprint of Meenah’s ring on his forehead.

“I’m Porrim Maryam,” She says with a smile, “I have been very excited to meet you, Cronus told us that he had managed to contact you, however I was not quite sure how truthful this was until now.”

Aw man, Porrim too? Why do all these chicks have to make you out to be an idiot in front of your adorable new friend?

Then she frowns, “Oh, did Cronus lend you his coat?”

Here we go – Porrim’s fashion tirade, the Kankri Vantas edition.

“No, this was given to me by my guardian.” Kankri replies, pulling down the edges of the coat as if it’ll make it fit better. “I did not believe I would need it but she insisted that I wear it so that I would not get cold, and as an educated adult I believe her opinion should be considered and taken as valid until proven otherwise.”

You want to tell him to stop, because an explanation like that is going to give Meenah even more reasons to pick on him, but once Kankri starts on something it’s difficult to shut him up.

“Well it looks far too big for you dear,” Porrim remarks, leaning close enough to make Kankri take a step back, “if I were you I would have words with her about buying proper sized clothes for you, or waiting for you to grow into things before making you wear them.”

You can see Kankri blushing out of the corner of your eye, his brows knit tight as he glares at the Jade-blood.

“Hey, leawve him alone alright, you ain’t got to put up vwith an adult fussin’ owver you so you can’t say shit about vwhat he should do.” Wow, you’re better at defending other people than yourself, who knew?

Porrim shrugs and walks away, linking arms with Aranea. Meenah remains behind a few seconds to send you daggers, then follows them.

“Sorry about that Kankri, the girls ain’t so friendly, but I’m sure you’d get on vwith-”

“No, I want to go home.” He says flatly, already turned away from where your friends are waiting.

You glance back at them, watching you expectantly as Meenah probably tells them what losers the two of you are. You’ve got half a mind to go over there and knock her down a peg or two, but then Kankri starts walking away and you can’t exactly let him go on his own can you?

“Hey Kankri, vwait up,” You jog to catch up with him, “vwhy are you leawvin?”

“Because I didn’t come here to be belittled and insulted, and I don’t need you stepping in to spare me from arguments, as I’ve told you countless times I am perfectly able of taking care of myself.” His sentence finished with a sniff, and you see him wipe his face on his shoulder.

Oh fuck is he crying? He’s walking so fast that you can’t tell.

“Kankri slowv dowvn, you’re gonna slip.”

“I’m _fine_ Cronus.”

You stop, and a few moments later, so does Kankri.

“I get if you don’t vwanna meet my friends, but don’t shut me out too.” You say, watching the curls of his hair dance in the ocean breeze.

He sighs and turns around, “I’m not shutting you out, I understand that as someone who is slightly older than me and could be considered more capable of independence you might feel the need to defend me, but even though I may be seen as small or weak compared to others, verbal debate is not something that I require help with. I recently read a book of compiled reports on the privileges of our castes, and even as a “mutant” I at least have the right to speak for myself when not accompanied by my guardian, and if I am then they may and quite frankly _should_ give me permission to do so if I am physically able and willing, something that I believe is more important than other trivial matters such as what I am allowed to wear or whether I own the latest communication technology, as even when you have no possessions at all, you still have your opinion and voice. Unless of course you have been muted in some way, which I apologise for overlooking and I hope did not make you uncomfortable in any way, as you have not mentioned any distaste of vocal ableism, however that could simply be because you did not wish to discuss it, but I always think it’s important to let people know when a subject is a relative ‘sore spot’ for you, such as my openness with you about my dislike of physical contact,”

“Kankri, Kankri, stop, I get it.” You put your hands out in a half-placatory, half-silencing motion.

Kankri had opened his mouth to continue, but he then closes it, letting out the breath that was meant to contain words in a veil of silent mist through his nose.

“I completely understand vwhat you’re sayin, you’re your owvn Troll an’ you don’t need me interferin’, that’s cool, you got this okay?”

He nods, not looking completely happy, but seeming a little less wound up, “Yes Cronus, thank you.”

You smile, relieved. Kankri tends to go off on rants about social justice and all types of discrimination, usually with no prompting at all, but some of them are clearly a form of stress relief for the poor guy. You’re getting better at talking him down though, he used to get annoyed with you when you interrupted him, but you quickly figured out when and how to get a word in when he goes off on one. Almost makes you feel like a Moirail. Maybe you could broach the subject when he’s less inclined to lecture you? Sure you might have more of a flush-crush on him, but really, what’s the difference between being close friends and just sticking a diamond label on it? It’s like a natural stepping stone into quadrants territory, then if things go well you can tell him how you _really_ feel. Yes, that plan is in no way going to backfire. It’s flawless. _Magical_ even.

“I should probably go back and talk to them,” Kankri says, looking over your shoulder, “they must feel awfully put out by the way you reacted, which by the way I do not condemn you for, but they need to know what they did to warrant such an outburst so as to avoid making the same mistake in the future.”

“Maybe that’s not the best idea,” You say, walking with him as he wanders back to the beach, “you should giwve ‘em time to mull it owver, then if they do it again you can talk some sense into their pans. Besides, you hawven’t met the rest of the gang yet.”

“Oh, yes of course, I find it truly astounding that you have such a wide spectrum of friends.”

He’s brightened up by the time you reach the others, and thankfully forgotten about – or at least abandoned – his idea of lecturing Meenah on her attitude. That would have been a literal death wish; you know from experience. You just hope Mituna doesn’t pull out any of his dirty jokes, or you could be rescuing Kankri from the sea again. Ugh, you bet Mituna would hover you above him like one of those fucking crane machines and make you pick him up that way.

Why did you want Kankri to meet these people again?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> This will be my first time writing Cronus and Kankri (or any other Dancestor really) seriously, so hopefully it'll go okay. But feel free to let me know what you think, feedback and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Have a good day and or night my dear reader ~


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